


Soft

by Viridian5



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:44:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yoji finds out a few things about Aya and his sweater that make the both of them more attractive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft

**Author's Note:**

> No spoilers. The seed was sown when [Error256 had a poll about Aya’s sweater](http://error256.livejournal.com/92216.html). Thanks to Rosaleendhu for pre-reading.

It really surprised Yoji to see a basket of Aya’s dirty laundry sitting unattended near the washing machine, because secretive Aya rarely left anything of his lying around, frustrating a lot of Yoji’s attempts at snooping. Then Yoji remembered that Manx had come by with a solo mission for Aya for last night.

Aya’s tendency to accept every mission Kritiker brought him, no matter how onerous or dangerous it was or how little prep time or intel they allowed him, had made Yoji wonder for quite some time. At first Yoji thought that maybe Aya had an obsessive love for money or murderous violence but over time decided that Kritiker must be holding something over his head, because no matter how sullen Aya might be about it, whenever Kritiker told him to jump he only asked, “How high?”

Aya must have been about to do his laundry when Manx had shown up and told him to get going immediately. The fact that the basket still sat here the next afternoon suggested that Aya had been too tired or too injured to bother washing his clothes or at least getting them out of sight. Or perhaps Aya had come to work on the early shift at the flower shop despite everything and couldn’t find the time because of that. Yoji would have to find out which.

That affront to all laws of aesthetics, Aya’s horrible orange sweater, was at the top of the pile. Aside from its general ugliness, it clashed with Aya’s coloring and covered far too much of him up. It made Yoji wince a bit every time he saw it, and on especially boring days in the shop he sometimes had daydreams about how he’d destroy it so it could never hurt his eyes again.

He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. Aya would kill him. But when would he get another opportunity like this? He should be praised for nobly facing such a threat while ridding the world of such an eyesore and improving Aya’s fashion sense. Really, he was doing Aya a favor.

Yoji set his own laundry basket on top of the washer then bent to grab the sweater. Holy shit. It was so, so _soft_. How could something so ugly feel like heaven? How could Aya be such a sullen, prickly, frigid bitch while wearing this thing? If Yoji owned a piece of clothing that felt this incredible against his skin he’d spend all day playing with it and himself in his room, interrupting it only to invite other people in to play along with him.

Bringing it up to his face, he could smell flowers, Aya, and a faint tang of sweat. He hadn’t even realized that he knew what Aya smelled like.

His own laundry could wait. Hell, he might have more dirty laundry to add to the pile after this.

Yoji stashed the sweater under his pile of clothes in his basket and brought it all back to his room, locking the door behind him. Sneaking around like this added a spice of naughtiness, making him even more aroused. Yoji put it on and shivered at the way it caressed his skin. He didn’t usually think much about his nipples, but right now they felt like the happiest place on earth. Aya had to wear an undershirt under this thing because Yoji’s nipples had gone so hard and erect that you could see them poking up and Aya never had that. Yoji had watched him enough that he would have noticed. He ran his hands over the sweater and shivered even more from how it rubbed against his skin and caressed him. The high turtleneck put Aya’s scent right under his face, mingling it with the scent of his own arousal. Fuck.

This could be dangerous. Then again, the revelation about the sweater had already forced Yoji to think about Aya in a different way.

Yoji pulled his silk pajama bottoms off, laid back on the bed, and started to stroke his hard and slightly dripping cock, moaning at the way his own undulations made the soft sweater material ripple across his skin. Although he briefly thought about wrapping the sweater around his dick, he didn’t go for it because it would finish things way too fast. He wanted this to last a bit and had to clamp his hand around the base to stop himself from coming just from the thought. He tried not to think about how he’d like to stroke _Aya_ and have him wrapped around his dick too....

Besides, he didn’t want to have to clean that off the sweater, and he pushed it up his body a bit to lessen the chances of it getting dirty, the sensation of which made him moan again and stroke his cock and balls more insistently.... Feeling exquisitely sensitive and aware, he slid the sweater up and down his skin and across his nipples. It felt _so_ good. His back started to arch and his toes started to curl, underlining how close he was. Then he had the sudden mental image of Aya wearing the sweater in the shop, it clashing with his improbably red hair, the ends of his eartails sweeping against the shoulders, softness against softness, and Yoji came _hard_.

Once he could think again, Yoji wiped himself off, pleased to see that none of it had gotten on the sweater. He currently smelled like sex and Aya, and he really wanted to know if Aya’s red hair still felt as soft as it looked.

He’d always liked to live dangerously.

The sweater made his hair stand out straight from static electricity when he pulled it off over his head. Although he didn’t want to let it go, he knew he needed to return it. He smoothed his hair out, put his pajama bottoms back on, snuck back to the laundry to put it back after one final caress, then went to take a shower. He sure as hell couldn’t do his laundry _now_. In his mood he’d end up hopelessly aroused again and start humping the machines.

Fully dressed, he went down to the kitchen for something to eat and saw Omi there. “Hey, guy,” he said as casually as he could, as if he hadn’t just jerked off thinking about Aya and a borrowed ugly orange sweater.

“I’m glad to see you on time,” Omi answered.

“Hey, I’m early! This is what happens when you guys give me a shift that starts at a civilized time.”

“You’ll be working with Ken today. Aya came back exhausted last night so I rearranged the schedule and turned off his alarm.”

“He’s not gonna thank you for that.”

“Aya-kun’s pride will have to find a way to survive it somehow.” Omi could be scary in his mama bear mode.

“Just tired? He’s not hiding any injuries?”

“He was too tired to be as sneaky as usual so I heard sounds and woke up. I checked him out myself and just found minor bruises.” Smiling almost dreamily, Omi said, “He was kind of cutely pathetic trying to slap my hands away.”

Aya sleepy and helpless against people helping him certainly made an appealing mental image. “Hmmm.”

“Don’t bother him.”

“Would I do something like that?”

“Yes.” Omi knew him too well. “He needs rest. Plus, you know how cranky he can get.”

“How long has he been asleep?”

“About 12 hours.”

“That’s long enough, and food might help him,” Yoji said as he started eating his own breakfast/brunch/whatever.

“We’re not waking him up to find out.”

After the many rude, violent awakenings Aya had administered to him, Yoji really felt that Aya deserved to get at least one of his own to see how _he_ liked it. Anyway, Yoji usually suffered more because he was hungover too.

He remembered that first time Aya had come to the flower shop and Yoji found him knocked out on the floor amidst the wreckage of his fistfight with Ken. Sometimes he told himself that he should have taken more advantage of the opportunity, but picking up the bruised vulnerable beauty, carrying him gently away, tucking him into bed, and making him more comfortable there had set off Yoji’s chivalric instincts too hard. These days he only saw Aya asleep and waking up if Aya had been injured during a mission and needed someone to sit nearby to keep an eye on him. Aya waking up medicated and groggy had its own pleasures, but it wasn’t the same.

“Yoji, I mean it. Don’t bother him. Aya is standoffish enough as is without you giving him more reasons to dislike and distrust us.”

“You’re on _his_ side? But you’ve known me longer and I’m so much nicer and better looking! At the very least I should have seniority. Wait,” Yoji grinned, “do you _like_ Aya?”

“We’re teammates.”

“I mean _like_ like him.”

“Yoji!” Kid didn’t help his case by blushing like that.

“That sounds like a yes. No wonder you’re so keen to check him for injuries after missions.” Perversely, Yoji couldn’t help trying to imagine Aya and Omi as a couple, and it made him want to laugh. The height and personality differences alone....

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. By the way, your shift starts right now.”

“But--”

“ _Right now_.”

You did not argue with Omi when he got that tone in his voice. “Okay, okay.” Yoji figured that he’d have to put off sneaking in on Aya and hoped Aya wouldn’t wake before he found a chance.

He put in two hours at the shop before he made his move, waiting for a time when no customers were around so Ken would be more likely to let him go. “Smoke break,” Yoji said.

“Yeah, sure,” Ken answered.

Without even bothering to pull off his apron first, Yoji left the shop the way he usually would for his break but headed upstairs at the first opportunity. Aya better be worth the sacrifice.

Yoji picked the lock on Aya’s door, something Aya had done to Yoji’s door more than once as part of a rude awakening. Once unlocked, the door opened easily and quietly, making Yoji glad that Aya hadn’t set a chair under the knob or something. An annoyed Omi voice inside his head said that after this Aya might start to.

Yoji crept into the dim room, its window curtains closed to keep out the sun. As his eyesight adjusted and he approached the bed, he saw a human-sized lump huddled under the covers. Closer up, he could see only Aya’s fanned-out red hair and long earring and a few revealed parts of his face. The covers came up to his nose.

Only Yoji’s assassin instincts and reflexes saved him when Aya suddenly exploded up at him with a knife in hand, slashing out. “Aya, it’s me! It’s Yoji!”

About a minute after that, Aya stopped his headlong rush. “Yoji?” His voice sounded scratchy and husky, and he appeared to be shivering. Did he always go to sleep with a knife under his pillow?

“Yes!”

“What the hell are you doing in my room?”

When Aya turned the light on, Yoji got a better look at him, the flush in his cheeks and somewhat glazed and feverish look in his eyes. “Are you ill?” That would explain a lot, and it changed Yoji’s plans.

“That’s not important. What the hell are you doing in my room?”

“Put the knife down, you nut!”

“Answer me.”

“It’s a wakeup call. You’ve done it for me.”

“What?” Aya put the knife down on a nearby table and looked at his clock. “It’s so late. What happened?” He looked so confused.

“Omi turned off your alarm, figuring you needed sleep.”

“14 hours?” Aya sat on the bed, tucking his feet up under him, and gathered his covers around him for more warmth.

“If you were feeling well you would have woken up on your own hours ago. Omi will kill you for going on a mission this sick.” Yoji considered demanding something from Aya as payment for his silence but decided he wasn’t that suicidal. Besides, Aya looking so miserable and pathetic made Yoji feel oddly protective of him, while Aya also looking softer and more vulnerable made Yoji want to snuggle him.

“I can’t turn down a mission, and I wasn’t this sick last night.”

If Aya had been this obviously sick last night, Omi would have noticed. “ _Can’t_ turn down a mission?”

Aya either deliberately changed the subject or was too sick to keep track of the conversation, with Yoji figuring it was the first one. “So... you came in here to wake me up... to tell me that Omi stopped me from waking up? That makes no sense.”

“It makes total sense.”

“No. It really doesn’t. Kudou, get out of here.”

“You’re not going to leap up and have a fit about how capable, strong, and badass you are?”

“This late in the day there’s no point. I might as well sleep more to be better for tomorrow.”

“Now I _know_ you’re sick.”

“Get out of here and stop staring at me.”

Yoji kind of enjoyed seeing Aya unraveled like this. Generally, Aya only unraveled during moments of rage, at which point he became scary as hell, or when very badly injured, which was scary for other reasons. He kept secrets and tried to be distant from the rest of the team, but sometimes Yoji had gotten glimpses of caring, softness, and almost a sweetness under Aya’s various shields of stone, thorns, or burning ice, glimpses Aya obviously didn’t want any of them to notice. Ill, Aya remained prickly but became more approachable, and Yoji wanted to stroke Aya’s long disheveled bangs out of his eyes and bring him another blanket to add to his pile.

Aya started to look somewhat confused, seemingly by what he saw as he watched Yoji stare at him. It made Yoji wonder what showed in his own expression. Trying to break the line of silent, growing tension between them, Yoji said, “Can’t. You need help taking care of yourself.”

“No.”

“Yes. Do you have any idea how dehydrated you look? Guess not. If you can’t find the ambition to get out of bed there’s a lot you won’t be able to do for yourself to get better. I give off a lot of heat, so I could keep you warmer too. Besides, how can you turn down the sexiest nurse in Tokyo?” He normally wasn’t the nursing type, but Aya had so much entertainment potential.

“...you think that’s you, don’t you.” Aya didn’t say it as a question.

“Damned straight.”

“Yoji!” Omi yelled as he walked in. “I told you--” Then he got a look at Aya and put his hand to Aya’s forehead, something Aya would usually be fast enough to avoid. Yoji wished he’d thought to try that. “You’re sick! Were you sick during last night’s mission?”

Before Aya could snap out an answer, Yoji said, “He wasn’t sick enough to notice last night. You didn’t notice anything either.”

Aya shot him a confused, somewhat grateful look, which made it worth it.

“That’s true,” Omi said. “But don’t worry, Aya-kun, we’ll nurse you back to health. I’ll be right back!” He ran off, a’glow over having an opportunity to help and probably thinking he could start to thaw Aya this way. Too bad he’d left before he could get a look at the horror on Aya’s face.

Yoji couldn’t help saying, “If you’d said yes to me earlier, we could have kept it between us and avoided all this.”

“The moment I have the strength, you’ll die.” Aya sounded completely serious, with the added scratchiness and huskiness in his voice adding to the menacing tone. Though that voice also went straight to Yoji’s dick. “Stop looking at me like that. The only reason why I’d let you get close to me now is to infect you with my plague.”

“See, you _are_ capable of sharing with others!”

“I’m serious. I’ll sneeze right in your face.”

Yoji heard Omi returning, while nothing he really wanted to do to Aya should be done in front of Omi. “We’ll see. By the way, you shouldn’t try to give whatever you have to Omi because if he gets even the slightest idea that you did it on purpose he has ways of making you suffer that you don’t even want to know about. Since I don’t want to get pulled into this scene, I’m out of here,” Yoji said as he left, confident he could get Aya alone again in the future.

He could always hold Aya’s laundry hostage, especially that sinfully soft sweater.

 

### End


End file.
